Mecum
by Armata Di Loki
Summary: Several months after the Battle of New York, Thor drops in for a visit with Loki at his side, asking to join the Avengers. This sets everyone on edge, especially Tony Stark who is coping with the aftermath of the battle rather poorly, and rejects the god completely. It's not until he realizes just how useful the trickster can be against a new enemy that he begins to warm up to him.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys. My name is Allison and this is my first chapter to my first fan fiction.**

Chapter One

Breaking and Entering

There was a loud, unearthly sound outside on the balcony that made the entire room and, possibly, the entire floor shake. Tony looked up more in annoyance than curiosity as he had to move to catch one of the whiskey bottles that fell from the shelf. Steve, the only other one in the room, didn't look surprised in the slightest, just irritated. The two of them shared a knowing glance before Thor, the God of Thunder, bounded in happily through the glass doors. Perhaps a bit too happily.

"Good friends!" He greeted brightly.

Tony nodded in his direction and Steve waved politely. They liked the Thunder God well enough, but his constant dramatic entrances were beginning to exhaust them.

"A pleasant day on Midgard, is it not?"

While Thor had always seemed happiest when visiting Stark Tower, something about the way he held himself and about his slightly too-large-to-be-natural smile made everything seem forced. Tony's brows came together skeptically.

"What's up with you, Thor?" came a soft voice from out of nowhere, asking the question before Tony could. He jumped and whirled around to face the corner of the room where Natasha stood, eyeing the god with a knowing smile.

"Shit, Natasha. Warn a guy, would ya?" Tony sighed.

She ignored him and pressed the question again, "Something's off, Thor, I can tell. What are you not saying?"

Thor's smile fell immediately. Of course Natasha would be able to see through him. No one could ever get away with anything with her around, but Thor was just a terrible liar. He glanced around at them all, as Steve looked up curiously, apparently not noticing Thor's façade before now. Tony could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think up a good explanation.

"I know not of which you speak," he said.

"You're lying," Tony accused, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar.

"And badly, at that," Natasha added.

"Come on, Thor," Steve spoke up, "just tell us what's going on."

He hesitated, but finally sighed in resignation, "I was only hoping to lighten your moods before telling you…"

"Telling us what?" Tony asked, not at all liking where this conversation was heading.

"Telling you about me," a new voice answered calmly, stepping in through the glass doors Thor had left open. Loki, the God of Mischief stood before them, looking calm, though still on guard. His green eyes met Tony's for a moment before the atmosphere seemed to erupt around them.

"What the hell is this bastard doing here?!" Tony's hands movedquickly to the bands resting in his pocket that would summon his suit. Steve had jumped up as well, nearly knocking over the stool he was on in the process. Natasha stayed just as calm as Loki had, though she didn't look too happy.

Thor quickly moved in front of his brother, "Allow me an explanation!"

"Better make it quick," Steve said threateningly, never looking away from Loki.

"Sir, shall I sound the alarm?" Jarvis asked from above.

"What's going on?" Clint had walked in from the other room with Bruce at his side. The moment their eyes fell on the trickster, they tensed up, a look of nervousness washing over Bruce.

"It's Loki," Tony said, almost growling. He never broke the glare fixed on the god as he slipped the bands over his wrists, ready to take action. Loki's look of pure indifference just pissed him off even more.

"Wait!" Thor told Clint and Bruce, "We come with news, not war."

"Right, that's why you brought a lunatic in with you," Natasha said icily.

"My friends, I beg you to find reason enough to listen to me," Thor implored, "Stark, call off your machine and allow my brother to explain."

Tony saw Loki flinch at the word brother but, other than that, made no move or objection. The genius pursed his lips. "No need, Jarvis," he said grudgingly. "There. Now explain."

"I was under the control of the Tesseract," Loki said simply, looking as apathetic as ever.

Clint snorted with a disbelieving smirk on his face. Bruce wringed his fingers anxiously, obviously not wanting any sort of fight to break out. Steve raised a brow, having had more contact with the Tesseract than any of the other Avengers. Natasha leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed. Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Quit shitting us, Reindeer Games, we don't need our time wasted," Tony sneered.

Loki met his glare with one of his own. "I would prefer if you would address me with my rightful name—"

"Yeah, well maybe just this once, baby Loki doesn't get what he wants," Clint said in a low and menacing voice.

The green-clad god rolled his eyes and heaved an audible sigh, "It is really just as simple as I put it—I was under the influence of the Tesseract."

"What does that even mean?" came Bruce's voice.

Green eyes met Banner's, making him shift uncomfortably, but he held his own all the same. Loki watched him for a moment with a narrowed look before giving him an answer, "Just as it sounds, Doctor, I was not in complete control of my mind or actions."

"You'll have to be a little less vague than that," Cap retorted.

Loki sighed impatiently, "Why do I bother to provide any sort of explanation? You mortals seem too close-minded to comprehend any of it."

"Try us," Natasha answered softly.

He hesitated, looking around at all of them as though dreading what he was about to say. For the first time, Tony noted, Loki looked almost… weakened.

After a long minutes of silence, he began, "The only way I can possibly think to describe it," Tony strained his ears to hear him, "is as though someone else is directing your life. As though your thoughts and ambitions are no longer of any importance, and all that matters is what this," he paused as though searching for the right wording, "different personality wants. While under its control, it made perfect sense. My head was filled with this belief that what I was doing was justified and nothing could shake that belief. And yet now that I've returned," he closed his eyes, his brows coming together, "for everything I did, though the memories are hazy, I feel the deepest regret."

Silence fell over them all. No one moved or spoke, all eyes still on the god who looked as though he were trying very hard to keep his breathing even.

"Do you have any proof?" Steve asked finally.

Loki's eyes flashed open, but Clint answered before he could, "He doesn't need any," the look on his face was hard, not quite forgiving, yet accepting all the same, "I believe him."

The mood in the room shifted from stubborn anger to uncomfortable understanding. All eyes were on Clint, whose own never left Loki's. But Tony wasn't having any of it.

"Alright great, so that slightly justifies New York," he began, breaking the silence, "but what about last year in New Mexico? He completely wiped out a town with an enormous metal rage machine just because he was mad at his brother and I'm positive he didn't have the Tesseract to blame at that point in time," he crossed his arms, leaning back against the bar.

"Loki has undergone punishment for his crimes on Midgard whether they were Tesseract-involved or not," Thor informed them.

"So what, Princess sits in time out for a while and that makes everything better?" Tony asked. He felt his heart pump faster in his chest as anger rose within him, "I don't think so! Do you realize how many people died? How many homes were destroyed? How much work was needed and still is needed to even start rebuilding? No, no, what this bastard did," Tony jabbed a finger in Loki's direction, his voice rising, "brain-washed or not is not going to be so easily dismissed. Not by me, anyway."

"What makes his actions any different from mine?" Clint wanted to know, rounding on Tony, "It wasn't as much of a choice as you seem to think it was."

"It's different with you and you know that," Tony said irritably. "Don't you start defending him—we have no idea what really went on in the time he was gone. If he went off in search of revenge, it's on him that he got pulled into whatever crap he did. It's like a kid on drugs. You may not know exactly what you're doing when you're high, but that doesn't mean it's not your fault for rolling the joint in the first place."

"Why are you even here?" Natasha spoke up over their argument. "To apologize?"

"It is just that, Agent Romanoff," Loki answered, all weakness gone from his voice, "and because I wish to join you."

"Excuse you?" Tony exclaimed as the others uttered sounds of surprise.

"As recompense, if you will, for my actions," he added. He looked a little less annoyed with them all and slightly more weary. Still, it wasn't enough to make Tony accept the story and certainly not allow him to join the Avengers. Before he could make any kind of remark, however, Bruce made a valid point.

"We should contact the Director before we go any further," he said with a warning tone. Tony sighed in annoyance as the others nodded.

"Jarvis?" He called up toward the ceiling lazily, rolling his head back on his neck.

"Already on it, sir," the AI answered overhead. Loki looked around as if searching for the source of the voice. There was a click and then Nick Fury's voice was played out for all to hear, "What is it, Stark?"

"Yeah, hey Nick," Tony greeted, not at all trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Need ya to head down here, ASAP."

"Why?" Fury asked simply.

Again Tony sighed, glaring for a moment at the trickster. "Thor brought Loki here and now he's saying he wants to—"

"LOKI?" Fury roared, making everyone in the room flinch. Without another word, Fury disconnected, and a second click sounded throughout the room.

"—join us. Jarvis, how long, do you think, until Fury arrives at Stark Tower?" Tony asked, smirking slightly.

"He was not far from it to begin with, sir," Jarvis said. "Though, I would estimate thirty minutes or less."

"Great," Steve muttered.

"Thanks, J," Tony said. An awkward pause followed, before Natasha spoke up.

"Clint, can I talk to you a minute?"

He looked at her wearily, knowing that the small smile on her face meant nothing friendly at all. "Uh… yeah."

The couple disappeared into the next room over, Clint looking back with his brows pulled together before closing the door behind them.

"Thank you," Thor said softly. Tony met his blue eyes which were sincere, "Thank you."

Stark's eyes met Loki's once more before he said, "I better not regret this, Thor." He felt strange saying it, threatening a god. He'd done it before, during Shakespeare in the Park, as he'd called it, but now, actually being friends with the guy, he felt out of place. Tony shook his head.

"I'll be in the shop," he muttered to Steve.

As soon as he got down there, his head cleared and he could think. What the hell was Thor thinking, bringing Loki here? And who had the ridiculous idea that he'd ever be able to join the Avengers? Thor knew how everyone felt about his brother from the get-go so why would he be so foolish? He sighed, frustrated.

"Music, please, Jarvis."

Instantly AC/DC blasted around him and he moved to one of the computers, opening files. He didn't really know what he wanted to accomplish, just anything to distract him. He decided to check for security leaks despite the fact that Jarvis had only just informed him yesterday that there were no such leaks to be found.  
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Bruce standing behind the glass, punching in the pass code.

"Hey," he greeted once inside.

Tony nodded to him, "Hey."

Bruce's brows came together when he saw what Tony was working on. "Why—"

"I don't know," Tony said, "thinking about this is better than whatever is going on upstairs."

"You got that right," Bruce sighed, leaning against a desk, "I never really thought I'd have to see him again."

Tony smirked, "Fury's going to kill him."

Bruce laughed shortly, "Please, with Thor here, no one's laying a hand on him."

"Right... What did Thor think would happen? That we'd hear Loki's sob story and welcome him with open arms? Kinda thought gods would be smarter than that."

"Nah, he saw this coming," Bruce said, crossing his arms, "I mean, surely he did."

"I would hope so."

"What do you think Fury's gonna do?"

Tony snorted, "Not let him in, that's for sure. Yell at Thor, which may not be the brightest idea. And then, you know, the entire tenth floor will be a disaster area. Again."'

"I don't know… did he even have Mjolnir with him?"

"Not sure," Tony replied. "I was too busy looking at the killing maniac he brought with him."

* * *

The thirty minutes it took for Fury to show went by far too quickly for Tony's liking.

"Sir, Director Fury has just arrived," Jarvis informed the scientists.

"Ready for this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Bruce replied tiredly.

"Great," Tony clapped and rubbed his hands together, "Let's get this over with."

The men took the elevator back to the floor where the two gods stood out on the balcony in what looked like a heated argument. Bruce joined Steve on one of the couches, both of them watching intently. Tony decided to let Clint and Natasha know it was time. He walked over to the door that led into the room in which they'd disappeared, but Natasha's voice made him stop in his tracks.

"After what he did to you—how could you trust him?"

"Nat, for the tenth time, I don't trust him!" Clint retaliated, "But I believe that he's telling the truth. Just this once, Nat, maybe he is. You heard what he said, how he described it. You know, Natasha. That's exactly how I've described to you a million times. You know."

Silence fell between them. Tony figured it best to interrupt now, before anything else could be said. He tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. The two of them looked away from each other and up at Tony.

"Fury's here," he told them simply. Now was not the time for joking or sarcasm.

They looked at each other once more before nodding and following Tony into the next room, noticing the gods still out on the balcony.

Tony found a seat of his own across from the couch that Steve and Bruce were on. Clint and Natasha both took separate chairs. Tony turned in his spot, following their gaze, and watched the gods. Thor did not, in fact, have Mjolnir with him, which Tony thought was odd. They fought on, apparently not noticing that they had an audience. Their voices rang clearly through the glass, though there was no way to know what they were saying as they were speaking in their native tongue.

"How long have they been at it?" Tony asked no one in particular.

"A while," Steve replied. "I haven't really been keeping track."

Thor shoved Loki. He didn't like that—it was plainly written on his face and heard in his rising voice.

Tony couldn't help but chuckle, "They're like children."

"I wouldn't be laughing," Clint noted. "They could very easily break your house."

In that moment the elevator opened and Fury strode out, looking anything but pleased to be there. He did not pause to say hello, but walked swiftly toward the balcony. He banged so loudly on the glass Tony thought it might scratch, making the gods look up at him.

"What?" they shouted in unison. But upon seeing who it was, their faces fell and they straightened up immediately.

Though Tony could not see Fury's face, he imagined it to look as though it was living up to his name.

"Director Fury," Thor spoke.

"Get. In," he growled, head bent low.

Tony thought it was funny the way Thor seemed to almost fear Nick, rushing to get back inside. Loki, however, took his time, the look of indifference back on his face.

Thor immediately dove into an explanation before Fury could speak another word and Loki gave his bit as well just as before. The entire time Fury just glared hatefully at the two of them, asking a question in an interrupting manner here and there. He was much more level-headed than anyone has anticipated, until—

"I wish to join you."

Fury's face fell for a split second before it turned to utter rage, "You what?" He spoke as calmly as ever and Tony thought that perhaps it had a greater effect.

"Director—" Thor started, but was cut off immediately.

"You… the guy who destroyed two different cities in a matter of months, caused the deaths of thousands, nearly crashed an entire aircraft, enslaved several innocent people and forced them to do your bidding, unleashed an army upon Manhattan, and came this close to ending the life of one of my closest friends, Phil Coulson… you want to join the Avengers Initiative?"

Loki merely nodded.

"Why?"

"I am not proud of the things I have done," Loki said softly, never taking his eyes off Fury, "Believe me, Director, this was not my first choice, but I feel it is the only proper way of showing my regret and asking for your forgiveness."

Silence filled the room and it seemed to last hours. To Tony's horror upon looking at Fury's face, he could tell the man was actually considering it. His gaze flashed between the two of them, Nick thinking hard and Loki looking as calm as ever. What was he doing? He couldn't seriously be thinking about it!

"Nick!" Tony half-shouted finally, though the Director showed no signs that he'd heard him. "Come on, you're not—this can't even be an option." He was almost whining. He caught Loki smirking and shut up, wanting nothing more than to throw him over the side of the balcony.

"Director…" Steve said hesitantly, "What are you thinking of doing?"

"Thor," he said suddenly, "If I were to decline, where do you stand?"

"With my brother," the god replied simply. Loki looked as though he wanted start another argument, but bit his tongue. "From this point on, if you choose to mistrust Loki, you choose to mistrust me."

"You aren't the one who killed anyone," Natasha reminded him.

"You must understand," Thor began, "that I now fully trust Loki. I only ask that you hold faith in my judgment."

Fury pursed his lips, apparently not liking that answer. Tony didn't think that anyone did, but he knew from experience that arguing with a god usually ended badly—or at least with several broken objects. Like walls for example… or entire rooms. He kept him mouth shut for once.

"Where do you expect him to stay?" Fury asked.

There was a pause in which Thor looked slightly surprised. "Well… here," he replied as though it were obvious. Tony didn't think so. Ignoring his previous resolution, he stood.

"What?"

"No," Steve said at the same time, moving forward in his seat, "Director, he can't." Loki rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Fury nodded, completely ignoring them all, "He can stay."

"Director—" Natasha started. He met her eyes, irritated.

"Is there a problem, Agent?" he asked.

"Yes! There is, actually!" Tony shouted.

"You know my problem," she said softly. Her eyes flicked between Fury and Loki for a moment.

"Nat," Clint started, looking across the room as her, "You know I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah, let's move away from the domestics for a moment, mmkay?" Tony interjected, "I let you shove all these guys into the place, Fury, but I'm not letting him in."

"I'm sorry, I thought it was clear that this was not up for discussion," came Fury's short-tempered reply.  
Tony was right there with him.

"I'm getting pretty tired of this, Nick—"

"Well suck it up because this actually works out to our advantage. The best part is that if Loki stays here, you have to keep an eye on him. A little responsibility may just do you some good, Stark. And you better get it in your head that just maybe, I know what I'm doing," Fury glared at him for a moment before heading toward the elevator, pressing the button when he reached it.

"What, so that's it?!" Tony called after him, following in his path.

"Stark!" he yelled suddenly, whirling around to face Tony who stopped in his tracks, "Having Thor around is more important than who you want living under this roof. So yes—that is it. Get over it." The elevator opened and the director disappeared into it.

"I hate him," Tony fumed, turning around," I hate him with a passion."

"Are all mortals this childish?" Loki wondered aloud.

"I hardly think that having a vendetta against a killer is childish," Natasha replied coldly.

"Alright!" Thor called, his voice easily overpowering all others. "I beg you to stop. I know that right now it may not seem as such, but the Director was right in saying that this is a good thing."

Tony was in no way thinking along those lines. Part of him wished he could Hulk out like Bruce—who had been particularly quiet throughout all this. He looked around the room until spotting him in a corner, facing a window. He was breathing hard, head down.

"Dr. Banner?" Steve asked hesitantly. Bruce tensed up.

"…Bruce?" Tony's voice was cautious.

There was a moment's silence before he sighed, "I'm fine," he mumbled, though his voice sounded a little off. Tony knew that he wouldn't be too fond of the attention being entirely on him. "But I'm… I'll just be in my room."

Nobody questioned him further as he, like Fury had a minute ago, disappeared into the elevator.

"Oh yeah," Tony smirked as the doors slid closed. He faced Loki. "Having you around will do wonders for this place."

Again the god rolled his eyes, "I think that perhaps had you not made such an ordeal of the situation, the doctor would have remained level-headed. I noticed no change in his behavior until the shouting started, and believe me… I was watching."

"Beside that point," Thor started, his voice overpowering them again, "Banner did mention rooms."

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me," Tony moaned.

"Forgive me, but my brother does need a place to sleep."

Loki smiled, tilting his head as he did.

Tony ran his fingers through his hair, "He's your brother. He could sleep on the terrace for all I care."

"Stark, come on," Clint spoke up.

Again, Tony snapped, "Okay, seriously, since when were you and Rudolph best friends? You must not have hit his head hard enough, Natasha."

Natasha raised a brow and Clint rolled his eyes, "We're not, dammit! I just agree with Nick."

"Of course you do."

"Well fine, whatever. But this," he waved his hand as a general gesture, "is happening. There's no point in bitching about it."

If Natasha wasn't sitting nearby, Tony would have punched him. After a moment of seething, he smiled sarcastically.

"Fine. No you know what? This is great. A killer living here—what could possibly go wrong?" He looked at Loki. "Please, enjoy your stay here; we only have one rule. Never listen to what Tony Stark says!" He shouted that last part and stalked to the elevator. He turned to face them one last time as the doors slid open. "I sincerely hope you all get murdered in your sleep. Have a nice day." With that, he stepped into the elevator glaring as it closed.

* * *

Normally, Tony would have headed to the shop, but he decided against it and went to his room. He felt like breaking something, and he'd rather it be something in his room than the expensive bits of equipment in the shop.

He'd been like this for a while now—about a month. Funny. To Tony it felt more like a year since his breakup with Pepper. Some job in Japan, she'd said. Things were getting hard to handle. She needed to get away for a while, she'd said. So she left. Tony had to find a new CEO. She was considerate enough to leave and explain the things she was working on so Tony wouldn't have to start again from scratch.

"The files for that project are under the folder name, 'Washington Project' and… I think that's it…" she'd said. She looked up at Tony who was still the doorway of her office. Their eyes met for a moment.

"So that's it?" Tony asked, his mouth very dry.

She watched him shortly before saying, "Well no, actually. There's this, too." She reached into her bag and pulled out a large orange envelope, kept closed with a metal clasp. Black ink labeled it at the top left as 'Pepper's Work.' She held it out for him to take. He hesitated as the familiar annoyance of being handed things filled him. He sighed and very begrudgingly took it from her. He didn't open it, just looked at it, taking a breath before having to face Pepper again.

Unfortunately, he'd have to look eventually. He forced his face into look of indifference, getting it over with.

"Alright."

She nodded, "Alright."

The two of them shared one last glance. She looked tired and her eyes were red as if she'd been crying. Tony found himself resisting the urge to comfort her—this was her idea. She was the one who was leaving. He just wondered if he looked as bad as she did.

She walked past him, keeping her head down. Tony couldn't stop himself anymore. He turned and caught her arm just as she left the doorway.

"Pepper, why are you doing this?" he asked, nearly whispering.

She took in a shaky breath, "Things are just getting overwhelming, Tony, I told you."

"What is?" His voice cracked. His throat was killing him.

"This whole Avengers thing, it's just—"

"It never bothered you before," Tony replied.

She pulled her arm away and looked up at him, tears in her eyes, "Never bothered me? Tony you almost died! I almost lost you—I thought you were gone! It was only for a short time, but it was still too much."

"But I didn't die, Pep, I'm still right here," he pointed out desperately, shaking his head and grabbing her shoulders.

"No, you don't get it!" she cried, pulling away from him. "That wasn't the first time and it won't be the last. One of these days you will be gone and I can't take that." She shook her head, wiping the tears from her face. "I'm sorry, Tony, I just have to get away for a while." Without looking back at him, she left.

Now Tony sighed and fell onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Pepper wasn't the only one affected by the battle. All of the Avengers had taken it pretty hard, but everyone seemed to deal with it better than Tony did. Five times now, he'd been shaken awake from nightmares because he was screaming. Otherwise, his body would suddenly jolt him awake, causing him to shoot bolt-right in a cold sweat. The whole situation was just embarrassing and wasn't getting any better. And wouldn't it just be great having the star of his nightmares living with him? He hadn't had a full night's sleep in weeks and now he couldn't see that getting better any time soon.

Tony hated Fury for doing this. He knew how everyone felt, that everyone was still coping with the aftermath of the battle and yet he still allowed the source of their problems to move in with them.  
Outside, the sky was beginning to dim. He sighed. Naturally he'd come to dread the night, and the nightmares that accompanied it. Even so, he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, and made his way into bed, slipping into sleep.

* * *

AN: I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave comments and constructive criticism for me; it would be greatly appreciated.

If you, in fact, enjoyed this and are waiting for the next update, I'll be straight with you and tell you I've yet to start on chapter two so I don't know when it will arrive.

Thanks for reading-hope you enjoyed. 3

-Allison


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Coping

"Stark!"

Tony's ears were ringing and there was some other unearthly noise around, clouding Tony's senses.

"_Stark_!" the voice called again, slightly louder this time. Tony wanted to reach it desperately, but at the same time there was something pushing down on his chest, keeping him back.

"_STARK, WAKE UP_!"

Suddenly the strange noise stopped and he shot up into a sitting position, clutching at his chest. He was drenched in sweat and his throat was killing him, the ringing still in his ears. Shifting on the spot, he looked around nervously, finding himself in a dark room—his room—the only light coming from his arc reactor. The brief moment of panic at being restrained passed as he shoved the sheets off of his still trembling body, focusing on taking deep breaths, his throat protesting profusely, making him wince at the pain.

He didn't have to turn his head to know that it was Clint beside his bed with that same worried and slightly irritated look on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the archer's body in the dim blue glow.

"I did it again, didn't I?" Tony asked him gruffly, rubbing at his neck when his voice came out in a rasp. He knew now that the pain in his throat and the aforementioned unearthly sound was because of his screaming. Again. His brows came together as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Clint sighed and crossed his arms. "Tony—"

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you there," Tony interrupted, dropping his hand and looking up at Clint with a tired glare. "I don't need you lecturing me, Target Practice."

Clint smirked in annoyance at the nickname. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Good. Then leave; door's that way," Tony replied, waving his hand in the general direction of the exit.

The archer waited a beat before actually taking a few steps backwards toward the door and dropping his arms back at his side. "We're talking about this in the morning," he warned, jabbing a finger at Tony. Before Tony could object, Clint turned on his heel and left, closing the door softly behind him.

The second Tony knew he was alone, he closed his eyes and stopped trying to control how violently his body was shaking. Sighing deeply, he brought his head to his hands, pulling his fingers through his messy hair and clasping them together at the back of his neck. He rested his forehead on one of his knees which he pulled up to his chest.

The damn nightmares were just getting worse, revisiting not only flashbacks of the previous battle, but also memories of when he was in captivity, or fighting against his best friend, not to mention the scenes his head made up on its own. He had to keep reminding himself that waking up in the dark did not mean waking up in that cave; that feeling, that pressure on his chest was not the same as flying through a portal and into some other world's demise; that continually waking up with someone standing beside his bed did not mean that that someone was a twisted demigod with a vendetta against him. Even though that last bit suddenly had a very real possibility of happening.

"Calm down, Stark," he mumbled to himself, wishing his body would stop shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut until it nearly hurt, removing his hands from his neck and pressing their heels against his eyes. "Jarvis?"

"Sir?" the AI answered politely and at a low volume.

"Time?" he croaked.

"Three thirteen in the morning, sir."

Tony groaned, letting himself fall back onto his pillow. He focused on slowing his breaths and hoping that his heart rate would follow his lead. His eyes drooped and his body begged for sleep, but Tony's mind was racing, still on edge with the all-too-vivid images of the nightmare. He knew Clint was right in being worried about him, but that didn't mean he wanted to have to deal with it.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Jarvis, start a shower." He sat up and noted how tense his back and shoulders were. "And make it hot," he added as an afterthought.

-

Clint was sure to close the door softly though he wanted nothing more than to throw it shut. He made his way back down the hall to the elevator wishing more and more that his room was not on the floor above directly Tony's. He punched in the floor number lazily and leaned back against the wall.

He still got chills even after pulling Tony out of his nightmares six times now. The sight of it was horrific; bursting through the door into a dark room with nothing in sight but a dim blue light and Tony's face contorted in some terrible concoction of pain and fear, his eyes squeezed shut. His back was always arched upward and his hands were in a death-grip on whatever was closest to them. Then, of course, there was the screaming. You'd swear the man was being burned alive; it was so violent it made his body shake. Even a floor above, it was loud to Clint's ears, hardly muffled by the walls at all, and being in the room with it sent his ears ringing.

The image was haunting and not something he'd ever expect to see from Tony Stark. Obviously the guy had emotions, but he'd gotten so good at hiding them, sometimes the others just… forgot. These nightmares were a reminder to Clint that this guy had fears and they were slowly eating at him. He just wondered what the fuck he was dreaming about that tossed him into that state.

Stark wasn't the only one with nightmares or having trouble coping. No one else screamed like that, but even so. Clint's may have gotten as bad as Tony's had if it weren't for Natasha. The archer shook his head and scratched his neck as the elevator slid open. He stepped out and made his way groggily to his bedroom where Natasha sat in his bed and in the light of the bedside lamp, knees pulled up and her arms resting across them.

"Hey," she greeted as he climbed back into the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. "That bad?"

He groaned in response. "Getting worse. I swear sooner or later, _I'll_ be having nightmares about _that._"

Natasha smiled softly and rested her head down on her pillow so that her face was level with his. "He'll get over it eventually."

"I don't know how—he won't fucking talk to anyone," Clint complained, sliding his arm off his face.

"Why would he? He's Stark."

"I don't care _who_ he is, he just needs at least someone to talk to about it. I mean, that someone used to be Pepper, but—"

"Clint he's not gonna talk to anyone. Maybe Bruce, but even that is asking a lot." Natasha told him, propping her head up on her hand. "He doesn't trust anyone anymore. Especially not now, with Loki here."

"Jesus, Nat, don't start that up again, we just made up."

"Well it's true!" she told him with a shrug. "And I'm not picking a fight, I'm just telling you—as long as Loki's around, which apparently will be for a while, Stark is going to stay this same stubborn, closed off, nightmare-ridden… thing. It's not pretty, but I honestly don't see what else we can do about it aside from waiting for it to pass on its own."

"Well _that_'_s_ not an option," Clint replied grumpily, rolling over on his side, and facing away from Natasha.

"Why not?"

"Because it's really cutting into my sleep."

_

Morning light accompanied by Jarvis's voice woke Tony the next morning, pulling him from a nightmare-free albeit restless sleep.

"Sir, I am sorry to wake you, however the others request your presence in the downstairs sitting room."

Tony rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow to block out the light. "Oh of course they do," he groaned. "Tell them to fuck off."

"I'm afraid—"

"Mute," Tony called irritably, instantly shutting off Jarvis's voice.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes when his door was suddenly thrust open by Steve.

Again Tony groaned, his fingers curling into his pillow which he now held to his face. "Security breach," he muttered.

"Get up," Steve commanded. "It's past ten and we're tired of waiting."

"Great, start without me," the genius retorted, tossing his pillow to the foot of the bed. He sat up—there was no point in trying to sleep anymore anyway, but he made no move to leave the room.

"Tony, we need to figure this out; it's getting out of hand." Steve told him.

"Nope—I've got this completely under control."

"Tony. I am _five floors_ above you and I can hear you."

That surprised Tony and threw him a little off his game for a moment, but he caught himself before he let Steve know that. "Well it seems to me that the real issue here is not me, but the thickness of the walls and floors. Jarvis, take a note—"

"Stark, I swear to god, get downstairs now. We're tired of playing around."

"I feel threatened."

"You want a threat? Don't think I won't send Natasha."

There was a beat of silence in which Tony couldn't hide his hesitation this time around.

"Just give me a sec, okay? I'll be down in like five."

"Seconds or minutes?"

"Steve."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just hurry up," he said, closing the door behind him.

Keeping his word, Tony made his way downstairs within the promised five minutes, changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He strolled past the group who were all sitting in the communal area as if they weren't there, wordlessly heading straight for the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee.

Someone cleared their throat and he looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. You guys want anything?" he asked with a cocked brow.

Bruce grinned, but Natasha spoke up, "Stark, don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Great plan," he said, snapping his fingers and pointing her way with a sarcastic grin on his face, "Better yet, we could just skip the whole thing!"

"What is going on in here?"

Everyone in the room tensed up, turning their attention to Loki who had walked in wearing black pants and a long-sleeved green shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

"Ah, brother, you are awake," Thor greeted him.

_Where the fuck did he get those clothes_? Tony pushed the question out of his mind as the smile fell from his face. "Oh, well there goes my good day," he sighed, looking back at the others as they turned their eyes on him. "And it was going _so well_ too."

"Seriously quit whining and just fucking _talk _about this," Clint said, raising his voice.

"Ah, are you referring to last night when Stark started screaming? I do have to ask," Loki smiled, facing Tony, "was that my doing?"

Tony's jaw clenched as he glared at Loki hatefully, his hands balling into fists.

"That does not help us, Loki," Thor growled. "It would do you well to be civil in a room full of people pitted against you."

"I was merely asking a question, dear Odinson," Loki replied with a tilt of his head.

"Oh don't start," Natasha snapped at the two of them. "Tony—"

"_What_?!" he suddenly shouted, all the anger from last night suddenly back on the surface. "What the fuck do you people want from me? Some big confession? A sob story? Forget it—this is an issue _I _have and _I_'_m_ dealing with it."

Discarding his coffee, he stepped away from the counter, and stormed out of the room and into the elevator.

"Well geez, I wonder whose fault that was?" Steve sighed with a bite of sarcasm. He fell back against the chair he sat on, looking up at Loki who stood beside him.

The god scoffed at that. "I am not at fault for Stark's childishness. I meant nothing by it."

"You still should not have said anything!" Thor suddenly shouted and several people, including Loki, jumped. "He is going through something none here can comprehend and we are attempting to understand it."

Loki pursed his lips. He could understand it just fine, if the situation was as it seemed which he was certain it was. Nightmares after times of trauma—oh yes, one could say that Loki Laufeyson was an expert in the field. Images of torture and punishment filled his mind, and he pushed them out, determined to keep the mask of apathy on his face. He could probably relate to Stark more closely than any of them, but that didn't mean he wanted to get into it.

"Consider me, from this point, uninvolved," he said with a shrug. "I will no longer interfere if it inconveniences you."

Loki watched as the faces before him took on looks of suspicion along with confusion.

"Um… thanks," Bruce replied hesitantly, though Loki knew he didn't quite believe him. As to be expected the god was fully aware of the fact that simple words would not gain the trust of these few. Especially not a certain Anthony Stark. He was a different case entirely and though making that remark was foolish, he couldn't say he regretted it.

"He's never gonna talk anyway," Natasha stated, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "Like I said," she added with a look at Clint.

"Hey, my main concern is that I'm losing sleep over it," the archer shrugged.

"Perhaps that is your problem."

"I was under the impression you were no longer involved," Thor pointed out.

"If it inconveniences you," Loki clarified, "and in this case it will not."

"So what, now you want to help?" Clint asked, raising a brow.

"Were you not listening yesterday or did you just overlook the reasons of my being here?" Loki asked him. When Clint smirked, he went on, "As I was saying, Stark does not seem the ignorant type to me and with good reason, so I think it foolish of you all to assume that he does not see through your actions."

"What are you saying?" asked Steve.

Loki sighed. "I'm saying that if your intentions are selfish, he'd most likely see that and avoid confrontation. Like today."

"Look, we care about more than just ourselves," Clint told him, "But come on, you heard him last night. This is affecting more than just Tony."

Loki snorted. "I've not known the man long and yet even _I_ know that he sees this, along with most things, as his little show."

"His little show? If he saw this as a chance to show off, he'd talk about it," Natasha told him.

"Would he? Stark seems the type who likes attention pointed his way," Loki stated. "And making a fuss about it by hiding things does just that."

Bruce laughed shortly. "You're not wrong there, but situations dealing with emotions, Tony opts out of, especially if it makes him look weak."

The god shrugged. "So be it. I am just saying that Stark is not thinking of this as something that affects anyone but himself and unless he gets that from you all, he won't talk." Silence followed that statement. Loki smirked. "I will see you all later," he told them with a wave of his hand as he turned back toward the elevator.

"You're not going down _there_ are you…?" Clint asked, sitting up to better see the god as he stepped inside the elevator.

"To see Stark?" the god laughed. "I am not so foolish."

The doors slid closed and everyone in the room seemed to release a breath they'd all been holding for the past five minutes.

"Okay, that was _weird_," Bruce said.

"I _know_," Natasha agreed, her brows pulling together. "What was that?"

"Just Loki keeping to his word," Thor spoke. It was the first time in a while. "It is something he's not done in a long time…"

-

Tony knew he was being childish, storming out like that, but honestly, he didn't care. He planned on heading to his shop and staying there as long as he could, but that changed when the elevator dinged open.

_I have got to remind Jarvis to only let authorized personnel in here… _he thought bitterly. However, the thought left his mind as he turned and saw Bruce.

"I told you I'm not talking about this," Tony said stubbornly, turning back to his work.

"Then don't," Bruce replied, "but something really funky just happened."

Tony smirked at the choice of words, but turned to face his friend. "What?"

"Loki just… in an albeit insulting way… kind of stood up for you."

Tony's brows came together and he jerked his head back. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

Bruce shook his head a bit. "Loki. He just—I mean, we were talking about the night, well the situation once you left, and Clint said something stupid and Loki just. I'd never… I don't—"

"Use your sentences Bruce," Tony sighed.

"He _helped_. He stood there and actually gave advice and tried to make us see it from your point of view and—"

"Wait, _my_ point of view?" Tony suddenly half shouted, cutting Bruce off again. "What the fuck does _he_ know about _my _point of view?"

The doctor shrugged. "A lot, apparently. Or at least it sure sounded like it."

Tony stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. He wasn't really sure whether he should focus on his anger or his confusion. No matter; there was still the suspicion. What kind of game was Loki trying to play, anyway? Kill thousands of people, come back with a sob story, insult Tony, and now suddenly he wants to fix the domestic issues?

"…What the fuck?" was all he was able to say.


End file.
